No Stone Unturned
by Carol
Summary: We Need to Talk About Kevin episode tag…Sam gives Dean a little understanding and TLC after the events of the episode...spoilers for 8.01


**No Stone Unturned**

**By Carol M**

**Summary: We Need to Talk About Kevin episode tag…Sam gives Dean a little understanding and TLC after the events of the episode**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Category: gen, hurt/comfort, angst**

**Spoilers: We Need to Talk About Kevin, general season 8**

**Disclaimer: I don't own em, only love em**

**Note: Even though there was really no evidence of any ill effects in the episode, I figured the cut that Dean got when he knifed himself to get Benny's blood out of him could use a little first aid. Really, it's just an excuse for some brotherly hurt comfort and closeness. They needed more huggy moments in the episode. In fact I propose that they spend an entire episode just hugging. It would be beautiful. Anyway, this fic is told from Sam's POV. Hope you enjoy!**

It was Kevin Tran, not Sam who first noticed that Dean wasn't quite himself and Sam would later kick himself for not noticing the obvious.

"Hey, man, did you get roofied or something back at that gas station?" the freaked out teenager tentatively spoke up from the backseat of the Impala as Dean let the car drift into the center median and beyond. "In America we drive on the right side of the road."

Sam snapped himself out of the hurricane of guilt that had been circling his brain ever since he had found out that Dean was alive and glanced over at his brother, noticing now the flush of red on his cheeks, the heavily-lidded eyes threatening to shut at any moment and the beads of sweat that sparkled against his forehead. Dean gripped the steering wheel with his left hand, the arm trembling and the other arm was tucked up protectively against his side as if he were injured. What's more, Dean hadn't noticed Kevin's comment or Sam's scrutiny, his entire focus on the road ahead even as the car continued to drift between lanes. In short, Dean looked completely wrecked, and Sam suspected if he continued to drive, not too far away from a fiery highway crash.

Sam cleared his throat nonchalantly, not wanting to embarrass his brother or call him out on his obvious weakness. "Dean, why don't we pull off and find a motel. We've been driving for hours. We're all exhausted."

Dean continued to stare straight ahead, giving no indication that he'd heard his brother.

"Dean! Hey, Dean!"

Sam tapped his brother's arm and Dean went wild, his eyes turning feral and deadly for several long seconds before he recognized Sam and came back from whatever dark place he'd gone. "Sammy? You trying to get us all killed?"

"No, are you? Our lane's on the right side of the street, not the left."

Dean raised his eyebrows and then dramatically swerved the Impala back into the right lane, just missing a fancy sports car. "Sorry, that's the way they drive in Purgatory, Sam. It's a lot like Europe, minus pretty much everything that's cool about Europe."

"You need to rest, Dean," said Sam in a matter of fact tone. "All of us do."

"Not used to working so hard, huh, bro? Out of practice from your big year off?"

"Dean…"

"Rest is a luxury, Sam. We could use it, but we don't need it."

"I need it," said Sam. "Please, man."

"Totes, me too," Kevin chimed in. "I need to stop and buy liquor and drink until I pass out, and then be sick for three days after so I don't have to think about my girlfriend's neck snapping like a twig right in front of my face."

Dean growled in irritation. "Fine. But we leave at first light."

"Good enough," Sam conceded, happy that they were at least heading for a bed and a good night's sleep.

Dean pulled off at the next exit and into the parking lot for the Tidy Inn. Sam went to get out of the car to get a room, but Kevin beat him to it. "I got this," he said. "But I get all the contents of your mini bar, no questions asked."

"Deal," said Sam, pulling out a few twenties from his pocket and handing them to Kevin.

Kevin slammed the car door behind him, leaving Sam and Dean in a thick silence, punctuated only by the sound of Dean's breathing, which Sam noticed had taken on a quickened, ragged quality that he didn't like. Sam nonchalantly gave Dean another visual examination, trying to pinpoint the cause of Dean's infirmed state. He took a closer look at the arm his brother held so protectively at his side, curious as to what was causing the obvious discomfort. It was then that he noticed a crusted over cut peeking out from the sleeve of Dean's flannel shirt. Without hesitation, he grabbed for the arm to get a better look and was alarmed at the furnace-like heat coming off Dean. He was even more concerned at the pained yelp the motion drew out of Dean and the way he snatched his arm away from Sam like it had been burned. "Son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing?"

"How long have you had that?"

Dean shrugged, trying a little too hard to appear nonchalant. "I don't know. A few days. What's the big deal?"

"It's infected, that's what. How'd you get it? Was it here?"

Dean looked away, not answering.

"You got it in Purgatory, didn't you? Was it some monster?"

"Sam…"

"Damn it, Dean, you need to get some holy water on that like now. What were you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know, Sam. I've only been in the bush for a freakin' year. They didn't have holy water or antibiotic ointment or rubbing alcohol down in Purgatory. If you got an infection, you cut off the offending limb and went about your day, so sorry if my first aid skills have gone out the window!"

Sam sighed, frustrated and worried. "Fine, fine. I get it. I'm sorry, okay."

Dean looked like he wanted to do much more than roll his eyes at his brother, but that was all he could manage. Sam gave his brother a side-eye once over and could tell just by the way Dean struggled to keep himself upright that he was dead on his feet, infected cut or not. He needed to take a load off and let his body catch up to being topside. His brain could probably use some time to catch up too.

Kevin knocked on the window then, breaking Sam out of his thoughts and causing Dean to jump out of his skin in surprise. They turned to see the kid pressing two motel keys against the glass.

"Guess we should go in," said Sam.

"Yeah," mumbled Dean, opening the Impala door with care and slowly extricating himself from the vehicle, moving like he was at least a hundred years old. Maybe two hundred.

Sam got out of his side of the car as well, grabbing the keycard wordlessly from Kevin, who handed it over with a glum expression before heading over to his own room and disappearing inside. A pang of responsibility tore through Sam watching the kid, but it was replaced by a feeling of all out blame when he glanced over at Dean and saw him struggling against the obvious pain in his arm as he tried to get his bags out of the car.

"Here, let me," Sam offered, grabbing the bags out of Dean's arm before he could say a word.

"Sam," Dean snarled, giving him a look that would freeze the sun.

Sam ignored him and headed for their room, hearing a loud sigh and then Dean's slow, shuffling stomps finally follow him. He unlocked the motel door and set Dean's bag on the bed closest to the door, just like his brother preferred. Dean followed him inside, shutting the door behind them and collapsing on the floor at the foot of his bed, leaning against it like it was the only thing tethering him to Earth.

"There's a bed right there, you know," said Sam, shaking his head at the odd places his brother chose to sleep these days as he sorted through the bags, looking for the first aid kit.

"Not the same," said Dean, his eyes far, far away.

Sam stopped the search for a moment and regarded his brother seriously. "Same as what, Dean?"

Dean's jaw tensed up, his eyes darting up to meet Sam's briefly before he dropped them low to focus on the pattern of the carpet. "They had these weird hybrid trees down there. They reminded me of a sequoia-oak love child or something. Those were the best. If I found one of those trees to lean against, then I knew it was gonna be a good night."

The words hit Sam like a punch to his stomach and he finally really got what his brother had been through the last year. Survived more like. While he'd been snuggled in with Amelia and the dog, Dean had been cold and alone and fighting for his life with nothing more than a tree to get him through the night. He instantly wished that he could trade places with his brother and take away all the bad things that must've happened to him. But since he couldn't do that, he decided to do the next best thing.

"Get up on the bed, man. I'm gonna clean up that cut," he insisted, tapping the pillow for emphasis.

"Sam" Dean whined.

"Just for now, okay. You can get back on the floor later. I'll even go out and see if I can find some bark for you to sit on. Make you feel more at home."

Sam held his breath, hoping that the comment would be seen as the joking acceptance that he meant it as and not a slap in the face against all that Dean had gone through. Dean slowly raised his eyebrows, looking like he didn't know if he should be touched or appalled. After another moment of pondering, he chuckled softly and tried to push himself off the floor. "Bitch."

Sam's whole body sighed in relief and he smiled widely, feeling for the first time since he'd found Dean alive in the cabin that they would be okay again. That they would be them again. "Jerk," he said, grasping Dean's hand and helping him up. He shuffled him over to the bed and then helped him stretch out. "Let's get this off," said Sam, grabbing the sleeve of Dean's flannel shirt and helping his brother out of it. Dean eyed him curiously as he collected all of the necessary supplies and set them on the table next to the bed. He grabbed some antibiotics and some pain pills and handed them to Dean, stepping away a moment to get him a glass of water. Dean obliged, taking the pills and gulping down about half the water before setting it on the nightstand and stiffly settling against the pillows on the bed, looking uncomfortable.

Sam knelt next to the bed, grasping Dean's arm and grabbing some of the cleaning supplies off the table. "Just try and relax, I'll be quick."

"That what you said to your girlfriend, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head, smiling. "Such a dick," he said as he dipped a cloth in some rubbing alcohol and then carefully worked it across the oozing cut. "God, what is this man? It looks like something decided to nest in here."

"Maybe something did," Dean said cryptically, shutting his eyes then, effectively ending the conversation.

Sam decided not to press the subject further and instead, reached for the holy water, ready to pour it over the wound. "Fire in the hole," he warned before generously pouring it all over the wound.

Dean yelped and seized off the bed in agony. "Aw, son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, tears involuntarily welling up in his eyes. Sam paused a moment, giving his brother a second to regroup and then poured the rest of the bottle out on the wound. "Ah god," Dean moaned through clenched teeth.

Sam set the holy water down and grasped his brother's shoulder, rubbing it soothingly as the holy water continued to sizzle and pop and steam in the wound. "Easy, easy. Just breathe through it, man. Just breathe," he coached, trying to keep his own breathing nice and calm.

Dean's body gradually relaxed as the burning stopped and the pain pills started to kick in. "Damn it, I forgot how much that freakin hurts," he gasped, looking woozy and unsteady.

"Not exactly a great welcome home present, but it's the best I got," said Sam, taking a closer look at the wound and deciding that he could probably get away with a bandage and not have to trouble his brother further with the pain of stitches. He grabbed some gauze and taped it against the cut. "Good as new."

Dean looked at him through doped up, sleepy eyes. "Thanks Sammy," he more breathed than spoke as the drugs and pain and exhaustion finally seemed to catch up to him and he sunk deep into the bed. Sam's throat tightened in guilt as he took in his injured brother before him. He removed Dean's boots one by one and then pulled up the blanket, settling it around his brother. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, nearly in tears. "If I'd have known…I wouldn't have…there's no way I wouldn't have looked. I would've found you. Nothing could've stopped me."

The only reply Sam got out of Dean was a barely audible snore.

Sam sat down on the bed next to his brother and ran his hand across Dean's forehead with the excuse that he was checking on his fever. Dean shifted in his sleep, agitated like he couldn't let himself totally relax. Sam wrapped the blanket tighter around him and adjusted the pillows before wrapping his hand around his brother's, letting it rest there. "I'm here, man. I'll watch your back. Just sleep. You've earned it."

The rest of the tension visibly left Dean's body and he let out a loud snore. Sam smiled and leaned against the headboard, settling in for the night, ready and eager to be there for anything Dean might need. It was the least he could do.

That's All Folks!


End file.
